


Dance Me to the End of Love

by StealthKaiju



Series: Music of the Spheres [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fluff, Ineffable Husbands Week 2019, M/M, One Word Prompts, Random & Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 17:47:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20492795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StealthKaiju/pseuds/StealthKaiju
Summary: ‘Let me feel you moving like they do in Babylon’Dance Me to the End of Love by Leonard CohenPrompt: Dancing / Music / Poetry





	Dance Me to the End of Love

‘Really Crowley, I don’t think-‘

‘Then you shouldn’t talk,’ Crowley quipped back at him.

Aziraphale bristled. It was like watching a cat in the rain. ‘The mad hatter to Alice. Anyway, I don’t see why we are attempting this.’

‘Because it’ll be good for you. You’ve been sitting at your desk all day, best to move a little bit. Besides, you like dancing.’

Aziraphale’s cheeks flushed, and his eyes flitted. (_Ah, guilty bugger_, thought Crowley). ‘I have not danced the gavotte for over a hundred years. And it was more a social enterprise; I never had any talent for it.’

‘Angel, it’s just us. No pressure, just…’ he held out a hand, his voice softening, ‘…just dance with me.’

Aziraphale took the hand, and shuffled forward, allowing himself to be drawn closer to his friend. Crowley took the hand he had and entwined their fingers, and moved his other hand around behind Aziraphale’s shoulder.

‘Why are you assuming that I take the lady’s role?’ the angel huffed.

‘Because then I’ll lead, and you’ll follow.’ He gave a saccharine smile. ‘Less chance you’ll step on my feet this way.’

‘I take that as a challenge,’ Aziraphale grumbled, but he put his hand on Crowley’s shoulder. His eyebrows creased. ‘Are we really going to do this without music?’

Crowley’s yellow eyes slitted, and the tip of a forked tongue poked out behind his teeth. ‘Just trusst me,’ he scolded. He waved a hand and a slow, sensual waltz began to play on the radio (which was certainly a turn up for the books for those who had tuned in to listen to the six o’clock news). He moved a foot slowly, waiting for Aziraphale to do the reverse, and when the angel had mastered a few basic steps (after only a little graceless fumbling – for a warrior of light, he could be very heavy-footed), Crowley began to slowly turn them.

‘I am sorry my dear, I’m not very good at this,’ Aziraphale began, staring at his traitorous feet, but Crowley shushed him. They did a few more steps, more comfortable in the rhythm, and Crowley drew the angel closer to him. ‘There we go,’ he said softly, leaning to whisper in the other’s ear. ‘You’re getting it now.’

‘Oh come now,’ Aziraphale scoffed. ‘You’re doing all the work.’

‘Not work, angel,’ Crowley said softly. ‘It’ss never work with you.’

‘Oh come now, really,’ tsked the angel, but he looked pleased.

The waltz had ended, another one starting up straight away, softer and slower. Crowley moved their bodies closer still, arms moving to encircle the other’s waist. They weren’t really moving their feet anymore, just holding each other and swaying to the beat.

‘I remember doing this in a café in Berlin,’ Aziraphale said suddenly, a sad smile on his face. ‘Very rare we get to do this sort of thing in public.’

Crowley hummed in agreement. ‘Nineteen twenty-ssix, I think. Or nineteen twenty-sseven. Can you remember the name of it?’

Aziraphale shook his head. ‘No, unfortunately. They did do a wonderful rumtopf though.’

Crowley rolled his eyes. ‘You don’t remember the name, but you remember the dessertss?’ He smiled. ‘You’re all about the pleassure aren’t you angel? Such a hedonisst.’

‘Yes, I suppose I am,’ Aziraphale replied, moving his hands to behind Crowley’s neck and leaning his head on Crowley’s shoulder. ‘I have a feeling that’s what you like about me.’

‘It helpss,’ Crowley said matter-of-factly. His forked tongue flittered out of his mouth briefly, a sign he was getting distracted, finding it harder to concentrate. They moved more slowly, and the music on the radio was now replaced by a female vocalist, voice sweet and gentle, and an accompanying guitar.

They stopped moving, just held each other tightly. Aziraphale leaned up to kiss Crowley’s cheek gently, fingers stroking the strands of hair at the back of the neck. Crowley moved his head to brush his lips against Aziraphale’s, waiting for the angel to yield and open his lips for him, a soft sigh leaving him.

The angel seemed to turn into water in the demon’s arms – pliant, almost boneless, completely in the thrall of the other. Crowley deepened the kiss, forked tongue chasing the angel’s, hands travelling down his back and forcing their bodies even closer.

The music had stopped; neither of them noticed.


End file.
